Ellie277's one shot collection :
by Ellie277
Summary: a collection of random stories i started, but never continued. I'm not good at summaries, but plaes read and review :
1. Chapter 1

**Note: This is just a random story I wrote in early 2010, so the grammar and stuff won't be as good as it normally is. I sort of gave up on this story, but if you like it, tell me and I'll consider continuing it and fixing the grammar!**

Left Handed Angel

Chapter one

"Are you coming?," yelled Camille's best friend jess " we're going to be late for school, Cam!"

"I'm coming, Jess!" yelled Camille in reply as she took one last glimpse at the photo of her Father, Magnus Dagramont. Camille came out of her bedroom and ran down the hall to see Jess standing in the doorway. "Where you looking at pictures of your dad again?" asked Jess as they walked out the door. "Maybe" said Camille, letting her golden fringe fall over her eyes. "Cam," said Jess, shaking her head "you're crazy. This idea is crazy. Your dad is dead! You won't find him!"

"Jess," said Camille "I will find him. I know he's not dead. I can feel it!" Jess pushed her short, brown hair behind her ears and then shook her head again. "Cam, let's not talk about this again. How about we talk about school?" said jess. Cam stared at her feet as they walked down the street towards their school, and then said "Okay." Jess was smiling at her. "Well, I heard there's a new boy starting today. He could be the one Cam!" said Jess excitedly. Camille had dated every guy at the school that she was interested in, but had broke up with every single one of them after about a week! "Jess, don't even go there. I'm not interested!" said Camille as they walked into the school gates. "I don't think I have to." Said jess with a sly smile as she pointed to a boy sitting down on the bottom of the steps that lead up to the front doors of the school. He was the most attractive person that Camille had ever seen. He had silky, Black hair that went down to his chin and beautiful, green eyes that seemed to glow. 'WOW' Thought Camille 'NO! Don't even THINK about it!' "I'm not going to ask him out, Jess!" said Camille firmly "and neither are you. You have a boyfriend. Nathaniel, remember! I don't think he wouldn't want you drooling over another boy, in fact, at 16, you shouldn't be drooling over anyone!"

"I wasn't drooling over him, and speaking of Nathaniel, I'm going to find him!" said Jess and then she turned to walk towards a group of boys. Camille started to walk towards the steps and she saw the new boy stand up as if to greet her but he said nothing so she just walked past him. As Camille was walking up the steps towards the doors, she tripped but before she could him the ground, a pair of strong hands caught her. She turned around to see who had caught her and saw the new boy smiling at her. "Hi my name is max," he said "are you okay?" "Ahh...I'm fine. My name is Camille. Um...thanks, I guess." And with that Camille turned away and walked inside. She walked down the crowded hallway to her locker and when she opened it she found a note from her last ex boyfriend, Thomas, who she had dumped last week. It said:

_Dear Cam,_

_I'm so sorry._

_Please give me a second chance!_

_Love tom XX_

"Pathetic!" said a male voice. Camille spun around in shock to see max standing behind her.

"Are you following me?" asked Camille.

"No," said Max lightly "unless you want me to be following you. In that case, yes I am following you."

"May I ask WHY you are following me?" said Camille, letting acid flow into her voice.

"I told you, I'm not following you," said Max "my locker just happens to be next to yours." Camille stared at him in disbelief. Now Jess was just going to annoy her more about having a boyfriend. She watched as max unpacked his books out of his bag into his locker. She watched him until he was finished unpacking and then saw him get his English stuff out. Camille Decided she should head off to English as well.

When Camille got to English she sat down in her usual seat, but Jess, Who usually sat next to her, was sitting next to Nathaniel, over on the other side of the room. 'Oh, great' thought Camille 'Now max has to sit next to me! Jess will be so annoying after this!'

"Hey" said max as he sat down next to Camille. She was about to respond when Mr. Dartmouth walked into the room. Unlike most teachers, Mr. Dartmouth didn't talk much. He proffered to just give the students their work and then write everything else on the whiteboard. He wrote that they have to working pairs with the person sitting next to them and then handed out a sheet about words and their meanings. Next he handed out some dictionaries and some laptops to use because, as you can imagine, year eleven English is pretty hard. To Camille's surprise, Max started filling out the sheet easily without even having to use a dictionary or laptop. Camille tried to think of something to say to him that wouldn't sound like she liked him but all she could think of was "You're left handed."

"How observant," he said sarcastically "Rathiel must have really broken the mould with you!"

"What?..." began Camille

"You do look like one of Rathiel's. The blonde hair and the pretty green eyes."

'He's crazy' thought Camille 'Crazy, but nice. I mean, he just called me pretty. Nobody's ever called me pretty except my mum, but mums are required to think you are pretty. The more I think about it I realize he's also handsome and smart. Hmmm... Nice, handsome, smart, crazy...no, the 'crazy' part just ruins it. Oh well. What a waste of a guy! He's probably gay'

"You're staring at me, said max breaking Camille out of her reverie "but I'm not surprised. I am very attractive!"

"You seem pretty sure of yourself." Said Camille

"Remember, you were the one staring at me!" he said "and don't tell me that you don't think I'm attractive. Every girl I meet drools at the sight of me!"

"Well, maybe that because they think you look so disgusting that they vomit and the vomit just looks like drool from a distance!" said Camille, putting as much acid in her voice as she could manage. Camille saw rage flash across his eyes and then he said "I could say the same thing to you." Disgusted, Camille picked up her books and walked out of the class room, just before the bell rang. As she raced to her locker, she tried not to cry. She was happy that she had no more lessons with max for the rest of the day. She never wanted to see max ever again. Sure, max was attractive, but he was also arrogant, stubborn and mean .thought Camille. At the end of the day Camille walked home without Jess. She lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling and she had a feeling that very soon things were going to start going terribly wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Left Handed Angel

Chapter two

Camille was standing in a marshy swamp area, dressed in a white silk dress. She looked forward through the light fog to see an unusual looking Lilly. It was jet black, but still pretty. As she approached it, it turned into a small cloud of black mist. The cloud grew bigger and bigger until it covered the whole swamp area in front of her. A dark figure was approaching her out of the mist. As he neared, Camille saw that it was max. He was wearing all black and hair was brushed down flat so that it almost went down to his shoulders. He looked towards her with eyes the colour of blood mixed with ink and cried "_Exista Frumusete in tot Raul_."

He smiled at her menacingly and then tipped his head back, Mouth open, and threw his arm into the air as if he were going to scream, but instead of screaming, a sound like a digital alarm clock going off came out of his mouth.

Camille's eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp. Her alarm clock was buzzing loudly on her bedside table. She reached over to turn it off and realized that it was already 8:15! Jess comes to meet her at 8:25 so they can walk to school! Camille jumped out of bed and threw on some jeans and a blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail and looked down into her jewellery box. She pulled out a green stone, the size of a baby's fist. The stone was connected to a long silver chain with a small gold loop. She hung the necklace around her neck and headed off to the kitchen for breakfast. When she arrived in the kitchen her mum denice was sitting at the table reading the newspaper "you're up" she said . " yeah" said Camille' grabbing a piece of her mums toast. "but I have to go to school now. I slept in"

"okay. Have a nice day!" said her mum as Camille walked out of the room. "bye, mum" called Camille as she was walking to the front door. Just as her hand touched the doorknob, the doorbell rang. As she opened the door she saw jess standing in front of her. "hey" said jess. "hey, Jess, " replied Camille "let's go". They walked down the street and half way to the school gates without a word then jess, unable to resist it asked "so what's up with you and max?" Camille sighed and tucked her fringe behind her ear " I don't know," she said "but whatever it is it's not good." Camille looked down at her feet. Jess frowned at her. "what do you mean?" she asked confused. Camille looked up at her and said " I think he hates me" there was an awkward silence and Camille added "We had an argument yesterday and he got really mad at me." And for once Jess understood that was her queue to be quiet.

Camille and Jess were almost at the school gates when Camille said "you go on jess. I just need a moment alone. Jess just nodded in understanding and kept walking. Camille just a minute to collect herself so when she saw max again, she wouldn't burst into tears. She stared at her feet and played with her hair as she took a few deep breaths. She turned around to look through the tall cast iron fence that marked the boundary of the school yard and saw max standing by a tree. He was holding something in his hand...it was long and silver... with a gasp Camille realised it was a knife. He started to walk casually through all of the others students, swinging the knife in his hands. 'are all of the students blind!' she thought 'he's carrying a knife!' Just at that moment, when max walked out of the gates and started walking in the opposite direction to Camille, she realised that the other students couldn't see him. Camille didn't know how, but, somehow, Max was invisible to everyone but her. Camile looked at him walking away from her. There seemed to be some purpose in the way he walked, like he wanted her to follow him. With a sigh, Camile started to follow Max from a distance of about thirty metres. Camile saw Max turn around the corner of a building down the street. She continued to follow hi until she rounded the bend and saw him leaning against the wall, playing with his deadly looking knife. He looked up and seemed almost surprised to see that she had followed him.

"Hey, you," he said as he looked at his watch "well, we should be heading off. It's almost nine o'clock."

Camile, taken aback, just stared dumbly at him and raised her eyebrows.

"What do you meab _we_?" she asked in confusion, "I don't remember agreeing to go anywhere with _you._"

He stared emotionlessly at Camile for a few seconds and then replied, "You follow me. That implies that you want to go wherever I'm going," When Camile shot him an evil glare he added "you can come willingly, or unwillingly."

The anger was welling up inside Camile now and she asked, "Did you just threaten to kidnap me?"

Max looked down at his feet and brushed his wavy fringe out of his eyes, but did not respond.

"Why do you carry that massive machete around anyway. Do you really think I'll walk off with some random guy with a knife?" asked Camile incredulously.

That made max look up and glare at her.

"Firstly, I'm not random, you know me! And secondly, this is not a machete and I carry it with me because-" He was cut off when a looming dark shape sprung between them with a wail. Camile screamed and backed away from the creature as it turned to face her. It had huge, sharp fangs and an abundance of eyes. It had a stinger too, Camile noticed as she heard a sickening sound and glimpsed a knife slicing through it's body. Max had stabbed it, but not before its stinger came whizzing through the air and embedded itself in the right side of her chest. Intense pain seared through her body. The creature was dead, and it puffed into black smoke. Through the haze, Camile saw the horrified look on Max's face as her rushed towards her. "Camile!" he shouted. Camile, no longer able to support her own body, crumpled toward him. The last thing she could remember was max cradling her against his muscled chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: This is just the beginning of the third chapter, I'll continue if you like it!**

Left Handed Angel

Chapter three

"Do you think she'll ever wake up? I'm worried about her…"

"She'll probably die. Rathiels are weak and Scavenger poison is strong, especially when it's so close to the heart. Now, if it were a Samsandriel in this situation, they'd have hope."

"Oh, shut up! Rathiels are just as strong! Besides, I think this one's a fighter."

"It's been _five days_ Belle! That's a long time to be out, even after being his by a scavenger demon!"

"oh, Heath…I hope she survives..."

_Five days_ thought Camile _I have to wake up_. She couldn't open her eyes. All she could do was float in and out of oblivion. She didn't know how long she remained floating, but suddenly everything went light. Camile gasped as her eyes flew open. She noticed that she was in a dark, cave-like room. Her bed was the only furniture in the candle lit room. The flickering flames cast shadows over the red walls. As Camile looked around she noticed that one of the walls was completely glass, but it was covered by a room length blind.


	4. Chapter 4

A Tale of Master Winthrop

The harsh wind buffeted his face and tugged at his baggy clothes. His leather boots slipped on the fine grey pebbles that lined the goat track that twisted up the looming hill. Maverick gripped his bow determinedly as he scrambled up the makeshift pathway. He was returning from an unsuccessful hunting trip and was eager to see his brothers again. He had promised to meet them at the top of this hill by mid-afternoon. As he reached the crest of the hill, he could see the haphazard village he lived in. The sound of distant laughter filled his ears and the aroma of wild herbs reassured him. He dropped to a crouch and let his calloused fingers sink into the soft dirt. He watched the activity in the village below and wished he could call this place home. He had lived here all his life, but he knew that it just wasn't the place for him. That's why he hunted. So he could wander aimlessly through the dense forest and just get lost in his own thought. Maverick could recall many times when he had thought about leaving the village and setting off into the forest, never to return. Although, deep inside, Maverick knew he wouldn't really belong there either. He stood up with a sigh. Now all that was left to do was wait.

The scorching sun beat down on his tan skin as he ruffled his already-messy mouse coloured hair. Maverick had been waiting at the top of the hill for almost an hour. _Where are they? _He thought as he sat down on the dead grass with a thud. He pulled his lanky legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. In all of his seventeen years, Maverick had never met a soul who felt more inclined to take his time than his brother Alec. In fact, Alec probably had his head buried in one of his religious texts right now. Maverick turned his head up towards the sky to take a glimpse of the blinding sun. "Be careful. You could go blind," Warned a familiar voice. Maverick looked around to see Alec approaching him.

From this angle, Alec looked monstrously tall, though when they were both standing they were the same height. Alec's dead straight hair framed his face as he looked down at Maverick. It was jet black, the colour of night. His eyes were an intense chocolate brown, identical to Maverick and Soren's. But that was where the similarities ended with the brothers. While Alec was as dark as night, Soren was like sunshine, Maverick thought. He had curling golden hair and shining tan skin. Soren was the strongest of all three of them, and the muscles in his arms stood out like chords. _Well, okay, maybe they're not completely opposite _Thought Maverick. All the brothers were tall. Soren and Alec both had easy smiles and were very charming, but as for Maverick, well, he had about as much charm as a dead slug. "Only you would know that," Retorted Maverick as Alec sat down on the crunchy grass next to him. "I'm just trying to protect you," replied Alec with a cheeky smile "besides, you don't want to end up like old Leslie, blind as a bat and crazy as one too." Maverick laughed at that and nudged Alec playfully. "Having all the fun without me, I see," Called a distant voice, and both Maverick and Alec looked up to see Soren. He had snuck up on them, silent as a hunter stalking a buck. He did that often.

He was lightly swinging his iron sword back and forth, as if it weighed nothing. Maverick could barely pick it up. The sunlight glinted off of the unscathed blade as Soren traipsed over to his brothers. He swiftly slid his sword into its crimson sheath before embracing Maverick tightly. "Good to have you back, Mav," Soren whispered into Maverick's ear. Soren stepped back and smiled broadly, his large hands on his hips and asked, "So, What's for supper Mav?" Alec playfully grabbed Maverick around the neck and swung him into a headlock. He ruffled his hair and remarked, "Leek stew from the garden, apparently. Once again our hopeless brother didn't catch a thing!" Soren's smile only broadened at this. "Oh my, dejavu. This all sounds oddly familiar. Oh wait! The exact same thing happened last month!" he teased. Alec laughed heartily and released Maverick. He stumbled away, scowling. "Let's go home," he grumbled as he began to trudge down the hill.

The Icy water from the basin felt fantastic on Maverick's dirty face. He rinsed his hair thoroughly before glancing up at his reflection in the apricot coloured mirror. Water streamed down his scrubbed face and clung to his eyelashes. Behind his bedraggled face he could see the edge of the regal bathtub. How was it that, while others in the village starved, they could afford things like this? _I thought that priests were generous, but apparently not _thought Maverick sourly. It made him feel sick to think that they lived like this. _When I'm older, I'll leave this place and live like the rest of the villagers. I'll divide my inheritance between everybody! _ Maverick thought determinedly. He wiped his face with the prim white towel and shook out his hair. Maverick slipped on the shirt that his father has given him and examined himself in the mirror. After wrenching a comb through his hair and adjusting his shirt so the colony seal was in the centre, Maverick thought he almost looked presentable.

Dinners with his father were always dull, and this one was no exception. Maverick stared down at something he thought was soup, though he had no idea what type. He swirled the sickly green substance with his gleaming silver spoon as his father cleared his throat loudly. The three brothers all glanced up at their father at the same time, expectant gleams in their eyes. His bald head shone in the light of the chandelier as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. He folded his chubby fingers in front of his white priest robe and looked Maverick straight in the eyes. Maverick held his gaze in anticipation. His father cleared his throat once more before beginning, "Now my sons, as I mentioned before, I have finally secured your places in the workforce. They will be as follows; Alexander, I have spoken to the head of the University of Salem and they have managed to squeeze you into one of their courses. After a mere six years of studying, you should have your master's degree in education," Alec's eyes had lit up and a slow smile was spreading across his lips. He nodded in thanks to his father. "You will start at the beginning of winter, in two months' time. In that time you will need to pack your things and organise yourself transport into the city. If you a ready soon enough, you may be able to get a ride into Salem with the traveling merchants. They will arrive on Friday and be heading back to Salem on the following Wednesday. That should give you plenty of time to settle into the university dormitories. God bless you Alexander," He finished with a slight incline of his shiny head. Alec returned the gesture.

After sipping some of his scarlet wine and mopping some sweat off his forehead, Maverick's father was ready to continue. He flexed his stumpy fingers before carrying on, "Sorentine, I have been speaking with old Clemm down at the tavern lately and we have come to a decision. He has been watching your combat training and is quite impressed. We decided that the next time the army comes into town to recruit villagers, you will sign up for the program. They are due around February next year. In between now and then, you are to continue your training. God bless you Sorentine." A broad grin spread across Soren's face. He nodded in thanks to his father, just as Alec had, then took a long drink of his wine, much longer than was polite. _My turn now _thought Maverick nervously.

He didn't care what his job was going to be. Maverick knew it wouldn't be anything as grand as his brother's jobs; he'd probably end up being some rich man's assistant or butler to an elderly widow. He was definitely not smart enough or strong enough to do anything really important. He gripped the stem of his elegant wine glass and looked his father in the eye. He was smiling at him and his eyes were glinting in unconcealed pride. Maverick was taken aback by this. He could not think of a time in his whole life that his cold hearted father had ever been proud of him. _So why now? _Thought Maverick. "Maverick," crooned his father "as the first born son of the family, you get the most special job of all." _Special?_ wondered Maverick _…oh no, it couldn't be…could it? _Dread filled Mavericks mind and his stomach clenched with fear. _No, anything but-_ His father confirmed his fears, "You will become the head priest."

Maverick's mind whirled and he was now gripping his wine glass so hard that his fingers were white. All the colour had drained from his face as he looked up at his beaming father. His voice trembled with extreme rage that he fought to control as he managed to force out the words, "I don't want to." His pudgy father looked horrified at the comment. Soren and Alec took this as their queue to leave and began to excuse themselves from the table before their father barked, "Sit down!" They sat back down in their seats, Alec looking embarrassed and Soren looking terrified. Just as his father was about to launch into a lengthy lecture about respect, Maverick shouted, "I won't do it!" He stood up so suddenly that his heavy wooden chair fell over backwards with a thunderous crash. Maverick stormed out of the dining room before another word could be said.

Fat drops of summer rain ran down his back and his heavy boots filled with water as he sloshed through the deep puddles on the gravel road. Maverick turned his face skyward just in time to see a flash of lightning illuminate the roiling thunder clouds. Thunder filled his ears as he stumbled down the uneven road. Warm rain mixed with tears streamed down his crumpled face. How dare his father appoint him with this role, when he clearly knows that it is the last job that Maverick could ever want? How could he possibly think that Maverick could run a village when he can barely run his own life? How can he expect him to lead sermons for the entire Massachusetts Bay colony on the Sabbath day when he has trouble speaking to just a few people? How could he be as cruel as to appoint Maverick with the role that he feared most? Suddenly, a tidal wave of rage hit Maverick so hard it almost made him double over. It was rage at his father, at his unwanted wealth, at his brothers for agreeing to leave him alone, at the villagers for not helping him, at the church for being so demanding, but especially at the colony. He clutched the image of the colony seal on his shirt. Maverick could not believe he would wear such filth! He violently tore off his shirt and hurled it into the muddy water at his feet. A scream of terrific rage escaped his lips and he tumbled to his knees. He balled up the torn and ragged material of his shirt and pounded it into the earth, over and over as giant sobs tore through his body, making him tremble. As his anger depleted, his sobs turned into ragged breathing and his pounding turned into slow thumping. Eventually, Maverick stopped. He bunched up the remains of his shirt in his bruised and bloody fingers, put his elbows on the ground and rested his head on his fists.

Maverick didn't know how long he had been crouched in the mud before he heard distant voices and the rattle of a rickety cart. A horse whinnied as a gust of wind barrelled through the gully. Maverick raised his puffy red eyes in the direction of the sound. A wagon pulled by a skittish grey horse came into sight. The rain was still beating down in big fat drops. Maverick stood up unsteadily, still clutching his torn shirt in his dilapidated hand. The cart stopped as he staggered into the middle of the road. "Who are you?" Maverick shouted hoarsely to the hooded figure sitting on the wagon's cab. Another, smaller figure jumped off of the wagon and landed with a splash. They jogged down the road towards Maverick and slipped their hood down. A woman stood in front of Maverick. She looked about twenty five years old and, even in the darkness, Maverick could see the bright red curls that was her hair. The woman looked distressed and her blue eyes were open wide. "Please, we need shelter! Tell us where to find a stable!" She asked desperately. Maverick ran his hand through his soaking hair, making the water droplets run down his forearms. He looked her straight in the eyes and wearily suggested, "There's a village nearby, but you don't want to go there." Confusion and desperation flashed across her eyes. Maverick thought he saw a single tear spill down her cheek, but it could have just been the rain. More calmly, she answered, "We don't know this area. Please just show us somewhere. Anywhere will do!" Maverick searched his mind for a short second before replying, "Follow me."

Maverick eased into a jog as he travelled in the direction the wagon had just come from. Slippery mud sloshed everywhere, covering his boots and splashing onto his calves. He turned his head to see if the travellers were following and saw the man on the cab bringing the frazzled horse around. The wagon followed him at a slow pace down the road. Maverick ran as fast as he could in the slosh. His body had heated up dramatically and he could no longer feel the chill of the wind or rain. The light of the full moon peeked out from behind a storm cloud and glinted off every rain drop before it collided with the ground. Maverick could momentarily see his surroundings clearly. The pine trees on either side of him meant that they were close. The icy water streamed down his bare back as he put on a sudden burst of speed. He could not see the hut yet. _It should be here…why can't I see it?_ Maverick worried. Just as maverick was beginning to doubt his sense of direction, the moon peeped out and shone directly on a dilapidated hut.

Maverick gently towelled down the grey filly he now knew to be called Esther. She whinnied softly as he scratched her dappled neck. He turned around to see a boy called Murtagh entering the stable. He was around the same height and build as Maverick, but he was two years younger. The wagon was carrying a lot more people than Maverick had expected. There was the red haired girl, Marion, her younger brothers, Murtagh and Balthazar, their cousin, Lucian, their grandmother, Quinette, and their grandfather, Roran. Roran had been injured badly, Maverick had no clue how, and was inside the hut with the others. He had shown them where the medical supplies were and retreated to the stables to tend to Esther. Murtagh eyed him curiously. His dark hair flopped over his bottle green eyes and he held something in his hand. He thrust it towards Mavericks bare chest and gestured for him to take it. Maverick unfolded it quickly. It was a baggy white shirt, much like the one he had torn to pieces, only this one didn't have a colony seal on it. Maverick slipped it over his head and flexed his arms. It fit perfectly. Just then, a small boy strolled into the room with cool confidence. "I'm Balthazar," he said proudly "and I'm eight years old." He had floppy hair, much like his brother's, only darker. His pale green eyes glinted and he pouted as he exclaimed "They kicked me out!" Murtagh and Maverick laughed at the little boys display.

The sun was just rising as Maverick made his way into the hut. Roran was sitting in an overstuffed armchair, his right arm and shoulder wrapped in an abundance of cloth. Marion slept on the rug, curled up in a little ball. Maverick gently lifted her limp body into his arms. He walked quietly into another room containing four beds. One of them was occupied by Quinette, another by the tiny Balthazar. He carefully placed Marion on the nearest bed and pulled a blanket up to cover her. When he had first seen her, Maverick had thought that she was in her mid-twenties, but now he realised that she was only about eighteen. A hand clamped softly on his shoulder and he turned to see Lucian. His silver-blonde hair glowed in the soft morning light and his blue eyes twinkled with appreciation. He guided Maverick out of the room and explained "We are going to Rhode island, to get medical treatment for Roran. Come with us?" Mavericks only reply was a curt nod.

Warm afternoon light streamed through the windows of the cottage. Maverick sat at the solid wooden table, looking out over the green landscape. It was so beautiful here on Rhode Island. He had been with the travellers for two weeks now and was beginning to get to know the Moore family quite well. Maverick had a blank piece of parchment in front of him and a fancy quill in his hand. He was going to write a letter to his brothers and father, explaining why he had left and that he was safe. He stared at the parchment, but he could not think of what to write. All he could think of was that here, in this cosy cottage on the sunny Rhode Island, with the Moore family, he felt like he truly belonged.


	5. Chapter 5

The Tigers of angel wood

Chapter 1: Wings

The wind had howled savagely in angel gully that morning. The icy rain had cut through Inca's cardigan like a knife. She had never thought it was possible to be so cold. She was standing in the centre of the gully and water was starting to flow around her feet. The gully was becoming a stream. Inca knew that it would soon be a creek, then a gushing river. That's how it always happens, every year. That's why nobody has ever been into Angel wood during the winter. Inca had wanted to be the first. She had thought it would be easy, saying goodbye to her life for three months. It wasn't. She had stood there for hours that morning, not having the courage to go further, and as the water started to reach her ankles, Inca had known she didn't have long to make up her mind. If she stepped to her right, all she would have to do is head back up the steep hill towards her home. She could be warm and safe and surrounded by familiar, smiling faces all winter. But if she stepped to her left, she would be the first person to ever walk through Angel wood during the winter. She would be recognised for her bravery and her name would go down in history. But as the rain stuck her short silvery white hair to her head and the wind froze her where she stood, Inca couldn't make that decision. She hadn't known why, but she was so terrified in that moment, she couldn't think. Deep down, she had known she should move out of the rising water. Deep down, she had known that she was putting her life at risk for pride, but Inca could do nothing.

Inca sat on her cushions, looking out of her bay window. In the distance, she could see the dark line of trees that marked the beginning of Angel wood. She was thinking of that day five years ago. The day she had attempted to be the first person to ever spend a winter in Angel wood. At the time, she had been thirteen and she had considered herself very brave. But when the time had come to test herself, she was so terrified she couldn't move. She remembered standing in the creek as the icy water reached her knees. Although it would have been easy, she couldn't step out of the water. She remembered seeing the boy come towards her through the rain. She remembered him calling out to her, telling her to get out of the water. When she didn't move, the boy had waded into the water next to her and took hold of her fore arm. She had looked up at his face then. He was squinting against the rain and wind and he was telling her to come with him. That was the moment she had snapped into reality and realised for the first time what she was actually doing. Inca remembered holding onto his arm as he helped her out of the water. She remembered how the boy had led her to a small cottage and how he had made her hot Cocoa and wrapped her in a blanket in front of the fire. She had been sipping her Cocoa when she turned to see the boy preparing to leave. "What is your name, Boy? And why are you leaving me here?" Inca had said in an innocent voice. The boy had turned around to look at her and said "My name is Falcon. And I'm sorry to be leaving you, but the river doesn't wait." And with that, the boy had walked out of the cottage into the pouring rain.


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: This is just the start of chapter two, but I may continue.**

Chapter 2: Rain

Inca stared at the plaid table cloth. It was drizzling outside and she was trying to avoid her chores. It was always wet in Apollos. Whether it be raining, drizzling, pouring or snowing, it was always wet. You could almost never go out without a raincoat and never without a jumper. Inca played with the tassels on the end of the tablecloth as her mother walked into the kitchen. Arica was a very practical woman, always telling Inca off for daydreaming. "Staring into space won't get the work done, Inca." She would always say to her. Right now, though, her mother appeared to be making toast. At two o' clock in the afternoon. Making toast at two O'clock won't get your work done Arica thought Inca in a voice mimicking her mothers. When Arica had finished spreading Quandong jam on her toast, she came to sit across the table from Inca. She peered at Inca over her now purple toast and said "Stop fiddling. You'll make the table cloth fray." Inca let go of the table cloth. Her mother did not seem to be in a good mood. Whenever she was frustrated she usually stopped being practical. Eating purple toast at two O'clock was not very practical. Inca turned her head to peer out the window at her horse Rain. She was grazing happily on the long, green grass despite the drizzle. Inca wished that the drizzle didn't bother her. Inca scowled down at the table cloth as she remembered that she still had to take rain for a ride today. Inca got up from the table and headed for the mud room. "Where are you going, Inca?" asked her mum. Inca didn't bother to face her mum as she mumbled "I'm gonna go exercise Rain." As Inca entered the mud room she heard her mother call something about gum boots. Inca hated the mud room. It was always muddy, as its name suggested, and it smelt kind of musty. She wrinkled her nose as she slid her feet into her boots and fastened her helmet to her head. She slung a bridle over her shoulder and then grabbed her saddle. Somehow, Inca managed to open the back door with her elbow and back outside without tripping over her dads boots, which were sitting on the back mat. Inca one, boots nil… thought Inca. Craig was always leaving his boots on the back mat for some reason hello, that's what the mud room is for! Thought Inca as she kicked her dads boots out of her way.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: A random story, will continue if you like it **

Deeper

Darkness. that's all I can see. My leg is throbbing. That's all I can feel. My lungs are full of something that isn't air. It hurts, it hurts. I must get out.

I thrash my arms about in the water, in a desperate last hope to find something. The tip of my finger brushes a slimy wall. I try to kick towards it, but my leg is bound. I open my eyes and I see the sun shining through the water. I reach down to my ankle and pull at the rope that binds me. It's too tight. I tug at the rope to see if I can move the rock. It won't budge. I'm trapped. I reach my arms up as high as I can but they are still too far from the surface. I look around desperately for something. My lungs are exploding and I can barely concentrate through the pain. Then I see it. I swim down to the ocean floor and grab hold of a shard of broken porcelain. I hack brutally at the rope on my leg. I miss and open up a large wound. Pain sears through my body but I don't care. I know that any second could be my last. I slash at the rope one more time, as hard as I can, and, finally, it snaps.

I lay shivering on the slipway. I convulse as I cough up sea water. I shut my eyes tightly and concentrate on breathing. I'm safe. But I'm not. I must get out of here. If he finds out he will kill me for sure. I open my eyes and try to stand up. The cut on my leg is still bleeding. I look at it. It's quite deep. I drag myself into the shadows of a nearby building. I know it's empty. It's half underwater. If I can just get inside without being seen. I grip the wall tightly as I attempt to stand up. My legs are violently trembling. I breathe a painful breath and look for a way in. I know I am searching in vain. I know that there is no way into this building. Or is there? I look down into the water. i see a small hole in the wall that surely leads to the inside of the building. I drop to my hands and knees and crawl back into the water. I swim carefully over to the place just above the hole in the wall. Its about six meters under. I have to do it. As a draw in a deep breath, my lungs ache. I open my eyes in the water. my ears are filled with a dull roaring sound. I use the wall to pull myself down deeper, deeper. A catch hold of the edge of the hole. Here I go. I pull myself through the hole and start kicking for the surface. My head pops out of the water. I open my eyes and at first I see nothing. Then my eyes adjust, and I see the inside of the building. I paddle over to the edge of the water and pull myself up onto a dry marble floor. I crawl to the highest point I can. I see a tiny gap in the wall and I peer through it. I see the slipway.

I lay on my back on the cold marble. My leg has finally stopped bleeding, but I feel faint. I'm not wet anymore, but I am still cold. I look up at the ceiling. There are a few tiny gaps in the roof and walls letting in small shafts of light. What am I going to do now?


End file.
